She put on her somber face, just in case there was a God. And, hand to mouth, tried hard not to laugh when I impersonated the priest. Divya Kishore studies medicine and aims to become conversant in sports metaphor. Go to Source


Leave him, he told her. You have the house, the investment property. You need nothing else. Nothing. Soon, he’d made himself irrelevant too. Jason Peck lives in Pittsburgh and edits After Happy Hour Review. Go to Source


They forced him from Themiscyra, as they exiled all boys, no matter how he protested that he felt like an Amazon inside. Sean Vivier is a web developer, a ballroom dancer, and a writer. Go to Source


The chapters of his life are not in order but the verbs are strong. AJ Atwater’s stories are forthcoming or published in Literary Orphans, The Gravity of the Thing, PANK, and others. Go to Source


My favorite band came to town. I paid $300 for floor seats so Amanda and I could watch the show through the lens of other people’s iPhones. Michael Snyder writes (mostly) fiction, has been published in many places, and lives in TN with his amazing wife, children, and animals. Go to Source


“Terminal, go!” “I’m not voice activated.” I touched its keypad. It purred. I began typing. It wheezed with pleasure: “Please, don’t stop.” @NathanHillstrom studied Computer Science, worked on Wall Street, and now writes in beautiful San Diego. Fiction in Asimov’s & others. Go to Source


The house he’d shared with his wife of many years had burned. With nowhere left to mourn her passing, it was time, at last, to see the world. Justin DeFerbrache teaches English in South Korea. Go to Source Author: Nano

December 2017. Issue 17.

Welcome to issue 17. Seventeen slick little stories. And here be monsters, heroes too, for balance, but can you tell which is which, the valiant from the vicious, before it is all too late…?Heroes and monsters are the dichotomy at the centre of so many stories, the partnered thump-thump heartbeat that drives the hot blood…


by Shannon BellHe looks me up and down. “There’s beauty in dirt.”I don’t know what to say.His finger pokes painfully into my flesh. “There’s space for others in here.”I never know what to say.This self-proclaimed hero who promised to rescue me is a monster that devours me. He draws from people. Enters them. Snatches their…


by Dakota CanonI went to the doctor because the spirit inside me had died.“I can save you,” he said, his own hero. “We’ll have to cut it out.”“But how can I live with no spirit?”“It’s vestigial. Like your appendix. Lots of people lose their spirit. See?”He opened a cabinet filled with infected, grey lumps. “These…


by Michelle VongkaysoneI wasted my life fighting that beast.Always elusive, preying on my weary flesh.Its presence provoked my deepest dread.All I wanted was to be free from it.I believed myself a hero, if only to slay it.I cared not for my meagre sanity.So long as the monster remained, so would my agony.Eventually, I confronted it,…

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